food·for·thought
by mutsukki
Summary: It was a voice that was always there, a whisper that never went unheard. It bothered her how often she didn't listen to the voice, even as it screamed at her to do something. And it was especially annoying when people she had never even met before suddenly seemed so familiar. —self insert, set in tokyo ghoul:re.
1. ab initio

**ab initio**

* * *

**prologue**

_"from the beginning"_

* * *

No one ever seemed to believe her when she said she could remember the moment of her birth and even beyond that.

They said that she couldn't have possibly remembered anything before that —because anything before conception was simply nothing, an abysmal status of nonexistence.

After some thinking, Ikehara Yūhi bitterly decided that it seemed fitting that her past life was full of 'nothing,' kept alive by only the slightest of intuition.

So she sat there in a holding cell under the Commission of Counter Ghoul —alone, cold, and charged with treason.

.

.

.

_"Maybe ya got a fifth sense or somethin'."_

_She looked at her squad-mate, bewildered. "Um, Shirazu, you mean sixth sense? Like ESP?" She shuddered at the very idea._

**. . .**

The wise always claimed that the creation of life was a beautiful process, but only the wisest knew that it was nothing short of bloody, traumatizing, and unnecessarily sticky.

It was really no wonder that the average person typically did not remember anything before the age of three.

But Yūhi was no average person, and this was no average story.

Her first memory of **this life** is coming out, vision foggy and disoriented, as she feels gentle, gloved hands resting on the small of her back, bringing her closer to who she later learned to be her mother.

_It was easy to remember the first memory_, she later testified, _just as how it was always easy to remember a first friend, a first pet, or a first love._ On the other hand, the next succession of months up to when her vision later cleared up seemed like just one murky, prolonged daydream —and she decides that it is undeserving of being called her second memory, so it isn't.

Her second memory is vague, but she remembers it all the same, and it is when a toddler reaches deep into the confines of Yūhi's flowery crib and taps on her tiny, pudgy arm.

"Hi, Yū-chan," the girl chirps cheerfully, "I'm Chihiro, your big sister!"

Yūhi gapes at her from beyond the soft polka dot blankets she lies in, as the girl introduces herself quickly and without a stumble.

It is like standing beside a zoo exhibit, except she's on the other side of the glass —at the mercy of a larger, unknown being.

The girl named Chihiro stands, waiting for a garble or a smile from the infant, but Yūhi only wails in confusion, (because a nagging voice in the back of her head screams at her that _she is an only child)._

It is only after the flustered toddler runs out of the room, panicking and screaming for the rest of the family to come inside, that Yūhi discovers she in fact has three older siblings.

She cries even louder.

.

.

.

_"I always hear these voices in my head, Dr. Shiba."_

**. . .**

She is two when she blabs her first discernible word, witnessed specially by her eight-year-old brother.

Unlike Chihiro, who is her elder by four years, Shintarō is older than Yūhi by six, and he is the younger of two brothers.

"What is this, Yū-chan?" Her brother asks, his warm hands grasping the sleeves of Yūhi's pajamas so gently, as though he could shatter her with just the slightest force.

She ignores the stickiness of his fingers, because his favorite snack was jam, and she had not the heart to tell him to go and wash his hands.

He wouldn't have understood her string of babbles anyhow.

Shintarō holds up a puppet, brushing it enthusiastically against Yūhi's cheek as he encourages his little sister to answer, letting out a soft, comedic bark. "Ruff, ruff!"

Yūhi opens her mouth hesitantly, the movements of her tongue seemingly foreign as he gestures for her to continue, "... _dog._"

She watches as her brother's face contorts into an indescribable expression, one of turmoil and foreboding apprehension.

"_Daw… ugh_?" Shintarō, confused, brings the puppet's dancing to a stop. "Where did you learn English_? _We're Japanese! This is _inu_, Yū-chan. Can you say _inu_?"

Yūhi lets out a gargled cackle. "No!" She grabs at the puppet with her small hands and throws it at her brother's nose.

"Oh no. She's at that stubborn age. I better tell Mama." The boy mutters to himself, catching the toy as it slides down his face and into his lap. He got up from his seat so quickly that he nearly falls over Yūhi's nearby crib, making a swift exit into the next room where their mother lies resting.

Yūhi stares at the open door, waiting for her brother's return.

Her family later tries to pretend that 'dog' had been her first word, but Yūhi knows better.

Everyone knew that her first word had been 'no', and that in itself should have been a precursor for trouble.

.

.

.

_"I'm sure it's just an aftermath of the operation, Yūhi."_

**. . .**

"Do I have to be a ghoul investigator?"

Yūhi asks the big question suddenly and in the middle of a family dinner, lowering her spoon of soup from her mouth to speak loudly as she splashes around her mother's homemade soup. Chihiro, without missing a beat, wipes diligently at the soup stain on the cotton tablecloth.

Her father is the first to break the ensuing silence, coughing violently as he pounds on his struggling windpipe. Her mother, who sits on the other side of him, pats his back dispassionately, as if choking on a baby back rib were a normal occurrence for family dinner time.

After he recovers from his earlier ordeal, he gruffly readdresses his youngest daughter. "There's this rookie that my colleague works with —the kid has no arms. And he _still_ wants to be a ghoul investigator. What excuse do you have?"

Hideki, who is the eldest and fourteen at the time, speaks up. "What does having no arms got to do with anything?" He turns to look at the rest of his younger siblings, and Chihiro shrugs. As children coming from a long line of renowned ghoul investigators, the older two are already well-involved in the CCG academy's training curriculum.

"Everything," Her father's authoritative voice booms across the table. "Yūhi, you're entering the academy next year, and that is final. Any words, Akane?" He looks at his wife for affirmation, and his question sounds more like a statement than anything else.

"You know," her mother hums in amusement as she eyes her husband, "Kasuka and Kureo just moved in next door." (Yūhi flinches, as though two names she had never heard in her entire life bear a sudden heaviness within her chest, threatening to throttle her in its course. The bowl of soup in front of her begins to look like a taunting, singular eye, and Yūhi pushes it away from herself uncomfortably.)

Yūhi's mother continues, a pleased pair of hands resting above her lap. "I know they have a daughter around Yū-chan's age who is planning on enrolling in the CCG academy as well." Yūhi already sees the gears running in her maternal figure's head, schemes and plans running amok. The five-year-old groans.

"Oh!" Chihiro pitches in, suddenly excited. "We could set up a playdate for them! Maybe Yū-chan can take this chance to figure out if being a boring, normal civilian is really what she wants."

"Thanks, sis," Yūhi looks at her disdainfully. For a nine-year-old, Chihiro tended to be really pushy.

"What?!" Her older sister bellows. "It's true! Being a normie is Boooring with a capital B."

Hideki, who sits smirking in the seat across from the two, snarkily remarks, "Do you even know how to spell 'boring', idiot Chihiro?"

"Ask that again, you butt! I dare you!"

The two begin to fight, and everyone else at the table grows quiet and disinterested, for arguments between the arrogant Hideki and the happy-go-lucky Chihiro were normal occurrence –normal occurrence like their dad choking on a baby back rib or their mother cooking foul-smelling French onion soup.

As it turned out, Yūhi's mother had never exactly shot down Chihiro's idea of setting up a play date between her youngest child and the next-door-neighbor's daughter, and the next week, the five-year-old dismally finds herself in front of a shy, hesitant new playmate.

The two mothers quickly exchange conversation and take it to themselves to have their own outing in the shopping district's monthly flea market. Meanwhile, Chihiro, whose strict schooling was currently on summer break, is left to watch the children on her own.

"Are you nervous about starting the academy next year?" Yūhi asks curiously, as the two play together under the blazing sun in the Ikehara household's backyard.

The other girl, who had been silent, moves her attention away from the careful braid she had made in Yūhi's dark, burgundy hair. "A little," she admits softly, looking off to the side in embarrassment, "but I really do want to make my parents proud."

"Yeah?" The brunette folds her arms, startling the blonde kneeling beside her. "Well, don't be! You know, there's a guy with no arms, running around and being an investigator! And you have, like, both of your arms."

Akira, as Yūhi later learned her name to be, looks bewildered. "How does he use a quinque without hands?"

"Dunno, but he manages," Yūhi shrugs. "Or so my dad says. I'm sure he's somewhere out on the streets, kicking total ghoul ass."

The blonde toddler gasps, prying her hands off Yūhi's hair faster than lightning. "You said a no-no word!"

Yūhi jumps to cover the girl's mouth, papping her as she turns back to watch her older sister, who is leaning against the side of the fence in a daydream. The last thing she needs is another hour-long lecture from Chihiro, whose main hobby is being a complete stick-in-the-mud.

Even as Akira yells a muffled "mh avin ah pami ah ack," Yūhi keeps her chubby hand against the girl's face.

That day, she learns the meaning of several new grown-up words: 'panic attack', 'endangerment to others', and 'banned from ever speaking to my daughter Akira again'.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_"No, you don't understand, Dr. Shiba. It's been like this since I was born, but the voices just keep getting worse."_

_**. . .**_

The next time the two meet, it is the day after the One-Eyed Owl has attacked in 24th. They are 11, and it is noon break at the CCG academy. Yūhi sits on the lawn by the East Building, her lunch waiting quietly in her lap —a handful of rice sandwiched between two white wheat slices, and the only meal she could come up with for the first lunch made without her mother's touch.

No words are exchanged at first when Akira plops onto the ground beside her, and she has brought her own horribly-made boxed lunch. Akira's hair is no longer in its usual neat fold, and instead, baby hairs peek out from her messy bun at the back of her neck, like grasses of wheat drinking in the warm, enveloping sun. Together, they watch the blades of green roll mournfully in the wind.

"That looks terrible," the blonde girl finally tells her, gesturing to the unwrapped sandwich in Yūhi's hands.

Yūhi falls back onto the lawn, all the while keeping her eyes on the girl resting tiredly beside her. "Your hair looks like a sandstorm." Yūhi swears that she sees a hint of the faintest smile on the other girl's round, flushed face, and she almost smiles, too.

"My dad did it for me this morning," she says, but Yūhi doesn't need to hear it to understand.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_"I think I'm going insane."_

**. . .**

"Congratulations on finally graduating, Yū."

Yūhi looks over at the open doorway, glancing curiously at her older sister from her seat on the bed. Chihiro's hair has grown from the curt bob it had been years ago, and her sister's flowing tresses are now groomed into a neatly braided pleat. It frames the oval face of a seasoned ghoul investigator —one who has run through hell and back.

"Thank you," Yūhi replies, hasty fingers buttoning up her dark blouse as she tries desperately to smooth her crinkled and worn uniform. After a few minutes of watching her sister's pathetic attempts to clean up, Chihiro makes her way over and promptly pats down the younger girl's mousy hair.

"You're the last of us four to graduate —and our parents' final legacy, Yūhi," Chihiro reminds her.

"Don't make them curse us from the grave."

* * *

**Author's note:** I wanted to try my hand at a self-insert fic where reincarnation doesn't explicitly guide the character on what to do in the _Tokyo Ghoul_ universe. I also kind of wanted to explore the role of CCG investigators and their social importance, if that makes sense… which is kind of why the fic takes place in Tokyo Ghoul:re and not in the original manga?!

There'll be a time skip between this prologue and the next chapter, and the next chapter should take place right after chapter 11 of tkg:re, so it'll be pretty much kind of semi-AU… since I'm just adding my own extra storylines in-between canon plots and all.

Anyway, thank you for reading! :)


	2. cras credemus, hodie nihil

**cras credemus, hodie nihil**

* * *

**chapter one**

_"tomorrow we believe, but not today"_

* * *

In light of a failed investigation, First-class Investigator Mado Akira and Rank 1 Investigator Sasaki Haise stroll down the hallway, careful to avoid any encounter with the Hirako squad in their wake. It is late in the afternoon, and the building is quiet, save for the low humming of the RC scan gate as investigators come in and out of the 1st Ward Main Office.

"What is this?" Akira asks, shaking the container as if doing so would provide her with some plausible answer. The can she holds is dented and worn, and Akira can faintly read the ghost of a makeshift apology letter on its label, written sloppily in blue ball-point ink.

"Red bean soup," Haise supplies unhelpfully. "It's Shirazu-kun's peace offering for your forgiveness, I think."

The first-class investigator sighs. "It's unfortunate that the operation was a failure, but it was unavoidable. Reconnaissance is never perfect, and all we can do now is regroup and find another way to tail Nutcracker." What a shame. Red bean was never particularly her favorite.

Haise opens his mouth, about to thank her for the reassurance. However, he stops short of responding, his eyes widening slightly as he turns to peer past Akira's figure. "Akira-san, there's someone waiting by the entrance. She looks like she's an investigator, but I don't seem to recognize her."

The woman's attire matches well with First-class Investigator Mado Akira's in its uniform whiteness, and in her dull eyes bear the same weariness and grainy roughness that gathers and blooms over years of hunting ghouls and watching comrades die. Her hair is dark and cut shorter at the shoulder, slightly wavy in a manner that brings a certain liveliness that the rest of her person fails to embody. Grey eyes dart from the door to the wall, and she looks somewhat frustrated.

However, upon spotting the two, the stranger appears immediately excited and she quickly makes her way over to greet them.

"Akira, long time no see!" The woman cries out, turning to shake hands with Haise's companion, but not before shooting a curious glance at Haise, gaze lingering for the briefest of moments.

"Ah, hello, I'm Rank 1 Investigator Sasaki Haise," he introduces himself from the side with a friendly smile. Yūhi faintly observes the way his fingers wring through the back of his duo-toned hair. "You've worked with Akira-san before?" (Somehow, looking at him almost makes her want to mourn —to mourn over what loss, she never really understood.)

He has on the standard CCG uniform, from the common white trench coat on his body to the polished shoes on his two feet. Yet despite this, she still feels a sense of uneasiness about him, and she makes sure to stand a distance a ways from the boy. Something dreadful lurches into her throat, and she becomes mildly aware that —yes, he is a ghoul. Her mouth feels parched, but she ignores it all the same.

"Oh yeah, Akira and I go way back," Yūhi replies. As a generous afterthought, she adds, "In fact, at our first meeting, Akira almost died by my own hands. Literally!" Yūhi watches the younger male's face begin to pale.

"Please, don't remind me," Akira remarks dryly, shooting a glance towards Haise that told him to dismiss the other woman's shenanigans. "I'm having war flashbacks."

The brunette shakes her head solemnly, throwing an arm around her old classmate's shoulders and ignoring said woman's resulting grimace. "I feel you, Akira. It's not easy being this bad from birth."

"Uh," Haise says intelligently.

"In any case, I don't want to keep you two from… whatever it is you both were doing," Yūhi chuckles, releasing the first-class investigator from her hold as she shimmies off to the side, being careful not to meet the half-ghoul's eyes. "I just thought it would only be polite to say hello. I should be meeting the chairman in his office soon for my newest assignment anyway."

She's about to walk around the two and continue her way down the hall, having gained a newly found sense of direction, but she's stopped when Akira grabs her by the shoulder with both hands to spin her right back around.

"Actually," Akira interrupts, making sure to smooth down her own ruffled hair, "you'll be under my charge for now, as well as under Rank 1 Investigator Haise here."

At Haise's look of confusion, she quickly explains, "Rank 1 Investigator Ikehara Yūhi has been transferred here from the 7th ward to be the support in our squad."

"Support?" He echoes, looking warily from Akira to Yūhi. He wonders if the higher-ups have already caught wind of what had happened while investigating the Nutcracker, and if this sudden addition is punishment for his own incompetence as a mentor.

Frowning, the other woman pulls Akira aside, being sure to have their backs facing the boy. From the close distance they stand beside one another, the young Mado can almost feel the intense antagonism that radiates off of Yūhi.

"So tell me, whose brilliant idea was it to place me into the quinx squad?" Yūhi deadpans, glancing darkly behind at the nervous Haise who stood waiting. Yūhi notes that his hand had again moved up to grasp at his hair, and she frowns. "In case no one noticed, I'm not a quinx."

Akira appears deep in thought, carefully considering what information to give or withhold. "Your father was responsible for intercepting a large number of organized ghoul circles notorious for human trafficking activity in the 7th ward."

"I'm not my father, either," she counters sharply. Surprised at her own curtness, Yūhi clears her throat before continuing. "You know I don't have the specialized expertise that my parents did, and I'm certainly not fit to be on the front lines. I don't even have a quinque."

"That's why if you had listened to me in the first place, you'd have heard that I'd said that you are the squad's _support _unit," the blonde emphasizes, evidently exasperated at the other woman's disagreeable nature. "We could really use a bureau investigator to help us follow case leads and organize information."

Yūhi stares at her for a couple of seconds longer. When it doesn't seem as though any of Akira's hairs are catching on fire, she decides to stop and redirect her withering glare towards Haise instead.

Finally, she says, "Okay, I give."

Akira looks almost satisfied with herself, bringing her hands together at her chest. "Excellent. Haise and I will show you around your new living quarters, then." Without missing a beat, she strides down the hall swiftly and absolutely.

From behind, the two investigators share an unspoken look of apprehension and horror, until finally falling in step with their superior.

**.**

**.**

**.**

As it turned out, all members of the quinx squad were living in a shared home, built on the same grounds as the CCG Main Office. The walk there is short and rushed, and neither woman makes any attempt to start small talk. Years of knowing each other's company makes the silence comfortable, but for Haise, the quiet is awkward and intimidating.

"You know, I accidentally swallowed some food coloring yesterday," he starts, "Dr. Shiba says I'm fine, but I feel like I've dyed a little inside."

"Oh my god," Yūhi says.

They finally reach the house, and Yūhi is mildly fascinated. It's rather homely and quaint, namely different from the steely CCG building that lies right beside it. The three of them step onto the porch. Haise reaches into his pockets and pulls out his house key, ready to open the door, and when he does, Yūhi sees that there are three investigators already relaxing in the common room.

The room itself is broad and spacious, looking as though it were built to house much, much more than five people. A boy with light orange hair sits on the couch in front of the television, feet propped on the coffee table, as he immerses himself in a generic action thriller. From the moment he snickers, Yūhi notes that his teeth are shark-like, and she begins to feel a little unsettled. Sitting beside him, there is another investigator, and this individual's most distinguishing feature is the eyepatch on his face, which is bright and contrasts strongly with the rest of his smooth, olive skin. Another boy is leaning against the wall, furthest away from the rest of everyone, and Yūhi is the most nervous about this one.

"Great," Haise comments cheerfully, standing off to the side to allow the other two inside the home. "So everyone's here."

"Um, aren't there supposed to be four quinxes in this squad?" Yūhi asks, disinterested. "I've already read the files."

Haise suddenly looks very uncomfortable.

"Who are you?" The boy against the wall presses. He has purple hair, two moles below his left eye, and Yūhi tartly notes that he appears to be sizing her up. But the verdict is apparently less than satisfactory, and his intimidating glare soon simmers down to a grimace of mild annoyance.

"Urie-kun," Haise warns tersely.

The other two don't appear to be as alarmed, and instead, they look towards their mentor, waiting for his orders before acting on their impulses.

Akira decides to break the news, and Haise watches from the back. "This is Rank 1 Investigator Ikehara Yūhi. Due to recent circumstances, she will be accompanying the quinx squad for an indefinite period of time. She will also be sharing these living arrangements with the rest of you, so please do well to treat her appropriately."

"The hell's that?!" The toothy boy becomes suddenly defensive, swinging his feet off the table to stand up. "Is it 'cause of what I did last week? It had nothin' to do with Sassan, so quit pullin' a tight leash on 'im!"

The boy with the eyepatch becomes visibly worried. "Shirazu-kun..."

"It's alright, Mutsuki-kun," Haise reassures him. "Shirazu-kun, this has nothing to do with the Nutcracker investigation." Or, at least, he hoped not.

He turns to address the newcomer. "We don't have an extra room, Ikehara-san—"

"Yūhi is fine," she corrects briskly.

"—I mean, Yūhi-san, so you'll have to double up with Mutsuki-kun for the time being," Haise rubs the back of his neck, looking truly apologetic. He honestly hadn't expected an addition to the team on such short notice.

Yūhi pauses, before asking, "Isn't Rank 3 Investigator Mutsuki Tooru a male?" (She hesitates. That's what it says on the documents, but somehow she's not entirely certain herself.)

"Ahaha, yes," the mentor laughs nervously. "But he's also the least threatening out of the other three." After a few seconds, he adds tastefully, "Towards people."

Yūhi steals a glance at Mutsuki warily. "Just wondering, but who usually cooks dinner around here?" She questions, noticing that there was no clock anywhere nearby. She commits this to future memory, noting that it would be useful to have one in the living room. But is it even the right hour for dinner? It had been a long day, and while a large portion of her time had been dedicated to her travel from the 7th ward to the 1st, standing in a crowd of new people for too long always remains to be the most exhausting part.

"Sassan, usually," Shirazu pipes in. Somehow, his curt answer seems to leave more room for explanation, but he doesn't continue.

Yūhi shoots Haise an unimpressed look, who laughs sheepishly. "You guys do know that your mentor can't actually palate human food, right?"

No one says anything. Urie glowers at her from his place at the back of the room.

"Okay, from now on, _I_ will be cooking dinner," Yūhi exclaims, when it didn't seem like anyone else was going to contribute. She stares pleadingly at Akira, who still stood beside her, and the latter woman sighs in defeat.

Akira turns to link arms with the brunette, leading Yūhi to the quinxes' kitchen. "And I'll be helping with the preparations for tonight, it seems."

Soon, it is a couple of hours in, and no sounds are heard in the kitchen, except for the murmuring simmer of vegetables boiling on the stove top and the guillotining of fresh salmon sliced at the counter. From here, Yūhi can hear the quinxes fight over a game of blackjack gone horribly wrong.

"This is uncharacteristically quiet of you, Yū," Akira jokes. "Something on your mind?" She gently lifts the cover of the cooking pot, peeking under to check if the asparagus has yet softened.

"There's another reason I've been transferred to the 1st ward, isn't there?" Yūhi asks lowly, her voice dropping to a faint mumble. "Just give it to me up straight."

After a moment of hesitance, the first-class investigator finally answers. "There has been an alarming number of complaints regarding your hostility towards the other investigators in your ward, Yūhi," Akira sighs, bringing a hand up to massage her impending migraine. "It's important that you learn to get along with your co-workers and develop a friendly relationship with them."

The brunette pauses to glare half-heartedly at the other woman, leaving a sharp, crisp knife suspended above the piece of raw salmon. Its blood runs down the wood, waiting patiently on the cutting board. "Are you saying that I don't have friends? Because I do."

The ghoul investigator raises an eyebrow, patiently beckoning Yūhi to continue.

Yūhi rolls her eyes, stopping to lean an elbow against the marble counter, as she pointedly draws a circle in the air with the kitchen knife. "You're my friend. Duh."

"I'm not part of your ward, Yūhi."

"Okay," she throws her hands up, affronted. "What about Arima? He's my friend. I have two friends."

"He's your superior. Also, he's not part of the 7th ward either." It was true. She was bluffing. Yūhi had never even spoken to the man outside of the workplace.

"Whatever! That still doesn't explain why I'm here and not there," Yūhi argues as she sets the knife down onto the counter. "If you want me to play footsies with everyone in 7th, then I will, but there's no way I can do it if I'm stuck in this branch, in this squad helping your goddamn half ghoul wannabes—"

"—and that's the other reason why you've been placed in the _quinx squad_'s support," the first-class investigator cuts in fiercely. "Do you really believe that your hatred and spite for ghouls will help you achieve your goals? I know you're still hurt about your parents' deaths, and I am, too. After my mother died, I was angry and resentful, and after my father passed, sometimes I felt like I wanted nothing more than to set this entire world on fire."

Yūhi remains silent and unmoving, even as Akira meets suddenly to place a firm hand on her arm —even as she comes close enough for Yūhi to see the exhaustion and grief haunting the violet of her irises. It is something that lingers in the periphery of her concerns, a mutual understanding validated in this moment, that the two of them finally address for the first time since the incident in the 24th Ward. The loss of both parents as martyrs to humanity's ultimate cause, they know, is a sacrifice greater than should ever be asked from a pair of tired and lonely children.

"It hurts, and sometimes these scars don't ever heal," Akira continues quietly, "but believe me when I say that these wounds will get better with time and company."

**.**

**.**

**.**

It isn't until the middle of the night, when Mutsuki is lying on his bed reading and Yūhi is on her cot dreaming, that she really looks at him. Yūhi looks at Mutsuki Tooru, and she finds it so difficult to see a human, and this anxiety leaves her dizzy with confusion —threatens to drag her under and drown her in its heavy waves.

She wonders: for what price would a person willingly give up his life to harness the strength of a ghoul? At what cost does it become morally acceptable for an organization to allow this to happen?

It is only when her eyes fall on his white eyepatch, on the cotton fabric that hides greater power of the darkest kind —indication of a boy whose humanity has been signed away to the devil complete with the medical paperwork, that she decides to pop her actual question.

"Sasaki?" He asks, looking up at her from his light reading. Yūhi sees that it's an instructional pamphlet on how to control one's chakra. She says nothing, really, because she's already read the files.

"Yeah. Would you say that he's a good mentor?" Yūhi repeats her query again, taking another glance around the bedroom. It's plain, decorated with only the essentials: a bed, a dresser, and a desk. Briefly, Yūhi wonders why Mutsuki hasn't bought himself a bookshelf, because there are various karate manuals, mens' fashion magazines, and spiritual self-help books scattered haphazardly across the wood panel flooring. The CCG hasn't ordered a spare mattress yet, so she's left to lie on the mess for the night.

"He is," Mutsuki replies, smiling. "Sensei lent me all these books, and when we ran into Serpent, he saved us even though he—" Suddenly, he ceases speaking, as though there is something in the air that stops him.

Yūhi watches him for a bit longer, and he fidgets under her long, fixed stare. Finally, she turns over and pulls the covers up to her chest.

"I know," she says. "I've already read the files."

* * *

**Author's note:** I'm sure that Mutsuki does whatever he can to try and make himself useful to the rest of the squad. I think, being unable to use his kagune can develop into an inferiority complex somewhere further down the line. I'm sure that when you get desperate, you start to believe that mental and spiritual balances might play a role in drawing out one's abilities...?!

I said this is a self-insert, but it's not really? She's actually pretty different from me, so I guess she's an OC... but also, with SI elements?! I dunno! Sassan is pretty much my son, but he is getting some pretty bad treatment here.


	3. Author's Note

Thank you to **xoxosecret**, **SucreTeen123**, **DeLacus**, and **Guest** for reviewing! :)

If you have the time, please check out **xoxosecret**'s fic _Forgive Me_ and her fic _Siblings_ on her other account (**notsosecretkittykat**)! She's absolutely divine at creating believable and relatable characters, and I've had the best time keeping up with her works!

**SucreTeen123**: Thank you for reviewing because I've managed to rediscover Mirage of Kaleidoscopes again, hehe... I read it awhile before I started getting less lazy about signing into my ff account, and I actually reread it again after you reviewed food for thought!

**DeLacus**: Thank you SO, SO much! ^0^ Your review means so much to me! I'm so relieved, because I've gone over to reread the chapters and they sound really awkwardly crafted... I remember drafting it in the middle of my winter break so I was probably really out of it at the time... hopefully, when I have more time, I'll be able to make it flow more smoothly! :'( Thank you again!

**Guest**: Thank you SOO MUCH for taking the time to review even though you're not signed in! :) You are incredible, because even I forget to do it when I'm not signed in... anyway, I'm so happy that you enjoyed it! :D It's no matter about the reviews - I'll do my best to continue writing regardless of how many reviews I get so thank you! Everyone's reviews do make me feel more motivated, and I'm very grateful for individuals like you who take the time to leave kind and constructive words!

I wasn't sure if the TG fandom would be receptive to an OC fic, so I'm really glad with how it turned out! For everyone who didn't review but read the first two chapters anyway, thank you! :)

I just noticed it's been like a month since I've updated, and I hope no one has thought that I've given up... in fact, I've thoroughly enjoyed the last two TG:RE chapters... very much... especially maman sasako.

I'll definitely be including that operation in the next few chapters... however, I'm really busy with my engineering classes right now, so I might not be able to get back to this fic until spring break or... maybe... even summer break... so I'm real, real sorry! This story isn't discontinued though, and I hope everyone has a fantastic time browsing the rest of the great selections in the TG fanfiction archive (though I wish there were more...)

Thanks for your support, and I'll see you soon!


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